


the smile that doesn't reach your eyes

by apeirophobia



Series: takotsubo cardiomyopathy [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cheating Harry, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Louis-centric, M/M, Relationship Issues, Take Me Home Tour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-21 03:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4814021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apeirophobia/pseuds/apeirophobia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Louis are in love, and have been for three years.</p><p>Harry and Louis are happy.</p><p>Except for the part where Harry is a narcissist and Louis is looking the other way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the smile that doesn't reach your eyes

 

"Don't look at me like that," Harry says, and Louis can hear the frown in his voice.

 

"Like what?" he says, even though he's facing away from Harry, and all this is metaphorical anyway; his _look_ , Harry's annoyance, the topic that they're avoiding, the _thing_ they're _not_ fighting about. Sometimes "not fighting" feels a lot like fighting. Sometimes Louis doesn't feel anything at all.

 

"Like..." and Harry almost says  _you_ _disapprove_  but catches himself. If he says that, he'll be admitting that there is something for Louis to disapprove _of_ and Harry can't do that. He's better than that. Better at _this_.

 

"I'm just going out," he says, fixing shirt one last time before turning away from the mirror. 

 

"Of course," Louis says, turning over in his bunk to wave Harry off, "have fun!" and he's not even being sardonic. The smile he gives Harry is genuine when the younger boy comes over.

 

"Try to stay out too late," Louis says and it's not a nag, it's just code for  _be careful_ and he doesn't want to sound too much like Harry's mum.

 

"We'll be fine," Harry says with a laugh, knowing how Louis worries, knows it comes with Lou being the oldest, of his own family and now of their band.

 

Harry kisses him before he leaves. His breath smells like mint and Louis tries to not think about what that means.

 

* * *

The thing is, Louis loves Harry, and he loves the boy he _is_ , not just the boy he wishes he would be sometimes. Louis knows Harry isn’t perfect, but their love for each other nearly is, so he holds on. Will keep holding on, throughout just about anything (if Harry killed somebody, for instance, he and Louis would have to sit down and talk, but Louis thinks he could survive anything else, literally and figuratively). Louis knows _they_ can survive anything, and in the strength of his belief lies his own weakness. Harry _knows_  Louis is ride or die, and sometimes Louis feels that Harry takes advantage of that.

 

Like when Louis sees Ashton for the first time, on the first day of tour, he thinks _he’s even cuter in person_ and when Louis sees Harry see Ashton for the first time, he thinks, _this isn’t going to end well._ Because the thing is, Harry is a bit of a narcissist, and when Louis' hears everybody and their mother (or maybe just three band members and two of the crew, but whatever) say  _he looks like he could be Harry's little brother_ Louis' stomach does an uncomfortable lurch. Because people used to say how he and Harry looked so much like each other when they first started dating, and he doesn't want it to mean anything, but he knows it does. 

 

The thing about Louis is...he's always right. From Harry's charming smile to Ashton's bashful grin and the way he blushes when Harry whispers in his ear, it feels like a script playing out. And Louis has always been a writer, but  sometimes he wishes he didn't see so much.

 

It's just. Harry and Ashton spend a lot of time together. _A lot_. And Louis' not jealous, _really_ , he's just concerned. What exactly he's concerned about he can't even say...it just makes him uneasy.  Because Harry loves him (he knows this, is sure of this). Harry loves him almost as much as he loves Harry (and Louis doesn't hold it against him--the discrepancy--he's just being honest). So if Louis loves Harry and Harry loves Louis and Harry is telling Ashton things that are making him smile like _that_  well, someone is going to get hurt.

A couple weeks into tour Louis catches Ashton coming off Bus 2 suspiciously early in the morning, deer in the headlights look in his big hazel eyes when he sees Louis and Louis thinks  _maybe somebody already has_. 

 

* * *

 

The thing is, the thing is, the thing _is_ Louis’ life is a little fucked up (but most of the time he ignores that fact). Like the way Harry looks at Ashton when he thinks Louis isn't looking. Like the way Ashton giggles when Harry whispers in his ear. Like smoking behind bus 1 with Zayn at five in the morning, no small amount of despair in Louis' heart and many reiterations of _how is this my life?_  escaping his mouth like so much smoke. Louis has so many questions...questions he's not sure he wants answers to. Louis has so many questions he has become really good at not asking.

 

“Isn’t that a little gross?” Zayn says when Louis shares his suspicions with him,  “A little inapropos?” he asks, skipping completely over the issue of fidelity and Harry's apparent incest kink and Louis loves him for it. For skipping right to the part that’s bad for business. Ashton is not a minor, but just barely. And it's not that Harry is terribly older than him, but he _is_ kind of his boss and--deep down--Louis thinks he might be motivated by something other than jealousy. Something like being a good person, or just a big brother.  And he's not sure which part bothers him more, the part where Harry's being a terrible boyfriend or the part where he's being an idiot about business. Objectively speaking, making sound financial decisions has always been Harry's _thing_ , and right now he's thinking with his dick (and being a dick, but that's another issue altogether).

 

"I mean, we're supposed to be like clean-cut, that sort of thing..." Zayn trails off, the implications clear; if Harry's shenanigans became common knowledge to their team he'd be getting one hell of a phone-call from Simon.

 

"Clean cut?" Louis says with a laugh, lighting his cigarette off Zayn's, "Do you, or do you not, recall the week last year I spent completely off-my-ass drunk?"

 

"There's a canyon of difference between indulging in perfectly legal substances, and putting moves on your barely legal employee," and Zayn has this way of laying everything out that makes Louis feel better. Louis' always found Zayn's logical approach to things to be a comfort. He makes things seem like they make sense. 

 

Louis hums in response, agreeing without agreeing. Trying to ignore the part where his boyfriend is trying to fuck someone who looks thirteen. Trying to forget the part where his boyfriend of three years is trying to fuck someone who looks like they could be related. Forget the part where his _boyfriend_ is trying to fuck _someone else what the fuck_.  Sometimes Louis’ life feels so surreal he’s not even sure how he’s still sane.

 

“Don’t think on it too much, you’ll hurt yourself,” Zayn says, as if he can read Louis’ mind. And maybe he can.

 

“But…ew???” Louis says, doing exactly what Zayn told him _not_ to do. Technically, he didn't _see_ anything the morning Ashton stepped off the bus. Just Ashton, his hair a little more mussed than usual, pulling his jacket close around him. And, yeah, Louis' instincts are telling him the younger boy was hiding something. But, technically, Louis doesn't _know_ anything yet; he just has this feeling, and he can't help his imagination running off on him.  For as much as Louis _doesn't_ want to think about Ashton, sometimes it feels like he's all he can think about. He wonders if Harry feels the same way.

 

"Am I really not enough?" Louis murmurs, unbidden, into the pre-dawn fog, and suddenly wishes he could choke on his own cigarettes. There are moments he would give anything to have a filter on his internal monologue, this being one of them.

 

Zayn does him the favor of acting like he didn't hear his slip of tongue, wrapping his arm around Louis like the chill of the early morning air might be getting to him, and emotional support doesn't have anything to do with it, 'cause Zayn is cool like that.

 

"You know how he is," Zayn says, “He’ll get tired of it, and when you’re back home everything’ll be back to normal,” because Harry would never pull this shit in front of their families, it’s just not how he is. But for some reason referring to Ashton as an _it,_ as a thing for Harry to tire of and dismiss, like a topic of conversation he's said all there is to say on, doesn't sit right with Louis. He knows Zayn's words are meant to console, but that doesn't stop the uneasy roil of his gut, and his conscience.

 

"I know." Louis says, taking the final drag on his cigarette.

 

And he does know, but he doesn't know why it doesn't make him feel any better.

 

* * *

 

Louis can feel Calum’s gaze burning into the back of his skull, but when he turns around the boy is talking to his pink-haired friend. Ashton is sitting across the table from them, and Louis thinks it's the first time he's seen him not touching at least one of his bandmates while in their presence. He's hiding his face in his folded arms, a fresh set of teeth marks visible just above his shoulder where his shirt hangs low in the back and Louis curses himself because he recognizes that mouth. Calum whispers furiously to his best friend and yes, he is shamelessly eavesdropping on his tour-mates and fucking whatever--he's totally justified--and he totally just heard his name.

 

 _How could you--_  and _I'm not--_ meet  _why_ and _please_  and "I didn't mean to," clear as day and i t's so imploring. And so sad. 

 

Between Calum's scowl and the bite-mark on Ashton's shoulder is Michael, looking between the two of them, frantic, like he's watching a tennis match. Louis hears Ashton whisper something that sounds like "I'm  _sorry_ "and Calum bites back a reply that's too low to catch.

 

“What?” Zayn asks, raising an eyebrow and looking all concerned, like he thinks Louis is losing his mind or something. “Nothing,” Louis says, shaking his head, and thinks  _not today, but soon_. 

 

Zayn looks past Louis to the trio at the other table, studies Ashton's defensive posture, and says, "Have you talked to him?"

 

"Ashton?" Louis asks, surprised.

 

"No..." Zayn says, like he's not sure if Louis is being slow on purpose or just hasn't had his second cup of tea yet, "Harry."

 

"Oh," Louis says, looking down at his hands where they're still wrapped around his empty teacup, absorbing the warmth still radiating from the porcelain. The last time he talked to Harry--really talked--more than a few words or a kiss goodnight, was yesterday morning, and he would swear--on either that soul-binding contract he and the boys signed after the X-factor, or the lives of his unborn siblings, whichever lasts longer--that Ashton's shoulders were free from illicit markings the last time he saw the Australian boy, right before soundcheck the previous afternoon. It kind of makes him regret not going out with the group last night. It also makes him feel like he needs a shower.

 

If Louis wasn't emotionally involved in this scandal he'd be laughing right now. Actually--even though he is getting screwed majorly by this situation (just, ironically, not in the same way that everyone else in this situation is getting screwed)--he is still laughing.

 

Scratch that, he's laughing hysterically.

 

"Dude, you're kind of freaking me out," Zayn says, eyeing him like he doesn't know if Louis needs a hug, or maybe to hit something.

 

"Sorry," Louis says, wiping his eyes after he's calmed down a bit, "I just had a stark moment of zen realization,"

 

"That." Zayn says, gripping Louis wrist and pulling him away from the mess area, away from the prying eyes of others, "Was not zen." 

 

"In fact, I think that was what people call hysteria," he says, coming to a halt beside a water cooler and filling an envelope cup with cold water, offering it to Louis.

 

"Well," Louis says cheekily as he takes the cup, "We both know there's only one tried and true treatment for _that_ ," and raises his eyebrows suggestively.

 

Seeing Zayn won't take his bait, he changes tracks, asking, "How old would you say those bruises were? Eight hours? Twelve hours tops?" somewhat manically, and then winces at his unfortunate word choice.

 

"Louis," Zayn says, so soft and serious, "What set you off?" every word dripping with genuine concern and Louis suddenly feels deflated.

 

"Life," he says morosely, "Life set me off."

 

When really, it was Harry--Harry, with his green eyes that drew him in three years ago and never let him go. Harry, who's supposed to love him and not want someone else. Harry, who's especially not to supposed to want someone who doesn't even want him back. And how pathetic does that make Louis? To be tied heart and soul (and body) to someone who wants someone three years younger and far less enthusiastic?

 

Harry set him off. But it's the same thing anyway.   


 

* * *

 

Sitting on the deck behind Bus 1 is Ashton. The early evening air is cooling but he’s just wearing one of those thin cut-out tanks he likes to wear on stage. Louis can see that his hands are shaking, but he doesn't think it's from the chill. He's not smoking--Louis' pretty sure he doesn't smoke at all--even though he's sitting on the smoker's porch.

 

"What are you doing here?" Louis asks, loudly, annoyance coming through, and Ashton startles.

 

"Did you think you would be welcome here?" Louis tries again and Ashton flinches. It _does_  comes out way harsher than Louis intended it, but Louis is in a very 'fuck it' mood right now.

 

"No, I..." the younger boy starts, but Louis speaks over him, "Cause all your friends are on the other bus with Niall, they're probably looking for you. They've got video-games and I'm sure there's snacks and theatrics, that seems to be your speed," he says, not able to resist making a dig at Ashton's immaturity. Ashton may only be three years younger, but between his curly hair and his big eyes (and his fucking _giggles_ ) Louis kind of wishes he could drop him off at a creche' sometimes. Louis glares at the boy's golden curls like they've personally offended him (they have) and decidedly ignores the rings under Ashton's eyes, as well as the matching rings around his wrists. There's a hickey under his left collarbone where his tank top doesn't cover and Louis thinks he's going to be sick.

 

"I was just looking for somewhere I wouldn't be expected to be," Ashton says quietly, drawing more into himself, and the fact that he's hiding--in front of Louis, but not  _from_ Louis--is another thing on the list of things Louis'  _not thinking about_.

 

"I thought..." Ashton says slowly, and for once Louis lets him speak, "I thought we were friends," and the  _before_ goes unspoken. Ashton looks down, making eye contact with Louis' shoes and the  _sorry_ is unspoken as well.

 

"I don't hate you Ashton," Louis says with a sigh, and he hates that it's the truth. Blaming Ashton would be so much easier than...everything else.

 

"I do," Ashton says, looking up, his big eyes brimmed with tears and Louis could kick himself for the welling of sympathy inside him, "I'll go," he adds, and he looks so defeated, so different than he is around his friends, so different than he was at the beginning of tour, and if Louis can't blame Ashton than where does that leave _him_?

 

"No...no, you can stay," Louis says before his brain catches up with his mouth, already turning away to escape back onto Bus 1. And it's not running away, it's just a brisk jog.

 

* * *

 

It's the last week of tour and everything is weird. Louis and his boys have been playing up their antics on stage, making sure nothing is amiss as far as the audience is concerned, but backstage feels more like a powder keg than a party. Louis' been sleeping through the days and staying up too late with Zayn, anything to avoid the daggers Calum has been glaring into Harry's back, and the conversation he and Harry aren't having. Zayn has been giving him this _look_ he doesn't care to decipher, and Louis thinks if he can just get through the next seven days he can get through anything.

 

He's lying in his bunk-- _not_ hiding, thank you very much--watching an interview the boys of 5sos recorded last week. Because _talking_ to people is just so difficult (he's been avoiding group dinners ever since he found Ashton hiding behind Bus 1) he's doing the next best thing, spying on them through the powers of modern media.

 

_"We're just so absolutely_ _grateful,"_

 

_"We've had a blast,"_

 

_"...the time of our lives,"_

 

_"...couldn’t have asked for a better_ _opportunity,"_

 

On the video Michael is talking animatedly about all the places they've gotten to visit--and all the food they've gotten to eat--and Calum is nodding along in agreeance. Ashton is staring off into space, his mind clearly not in the room the interview is taking place, and Luke is staring at Ashton. He's been unusually quiet throughout the whole interview, Calum shooting concerned looks in his direction whenever he's not answering questions or trying to cajole Michael into appropriate responses (or--at least--less inappropriate ones).

 

The interviewer asks them all the usual questions before finally addressing Ashton, "Anything to add?" she says kindly, smiling when Ashton blinks at her, clearly rejoining their plane of reality.

 

"I'm sorry," he says, realizing he zoned out for most of the interview, "Could you repeat the question?"

 

"She was wondering how you would describe your tour experience?" Michael says, helping his friend out. He pats Ashton's head mockingly gentle, teasing Ashton for his confusion, and Calum and Luke laugh.

 

"Oh," says Ashton, contemplating, "It's been...unforgettable," he says, but when he smiles, it doesn't quite meet his eyes.

 

Louis turns off the interview as Calum sneaks a comforting arm around Ashton's shoulders and steers the conversation onto another topic. Louis locks his phone and shoves his face into his pillow, groaning loudly. He's getting a clearer picture, and he doesn't want it. He presses his hands against his eyelids until all he can see should be stars, but instead all he sees is Ashton. Ashton with hickies on his neck and that look of devastation on his face. Ashton with his usually brilliant smile on his face, and Calum's arm around his waist. Ashton telling Louis that it's okay to _hate him_. Louis covers his face with his hands and mutters  _fuck fuck fuck_ to himself over and over.

 

Some indiscernible amount of time later, Zayn pulls back the curtain to Louis' bunk. Louis turns towards the wall in wordless invitation and Zayn climbs in and cuddles against him, weaving his right arm around Louis' chest to pull him close. Louis buries his face in the sleeve of Zayn's sweater, comforting in its scents of coffee and weed, and just holds on.

 

* * *

 

Louis and Harry fly home, to their house in Cheshire, and everything is back to normal. Louis takes the window seat so Harry can stretch his legs on the plane, and later they hold hands while watching some period piece film on the entertainment system. Louis falls asleep, his carry-on blanket pillowed beneath his head and his feet in Harry’s lap, and he wakes up in their bed, in their house, the next morning. He can hear Haz in the kitchen, singing the opening notes to one of the melodies they wrote for their next album, no doubt making breakfast. Louis rolls onto his back and admires the sunlight streaming through the windows of their master bedroom. It almost feels like they never left. 

 

Louis tries to not think about Ashton. But he finds it hard when he checks twitter feed to see that everyone's gotten home safe, and sees a pic of him and the rest of the boys sleeping on their plane home. Ashton is curled up against the window of the plane, Calum using his shoulder as a pillow, the both of them wrapped in one of those quilts they sell at Duty-free. Michael is tucked into Calum's other side, face almost obscured by the hood of his over-sized onesie, and he can see Luke's feet sticking into the aisle behind them. The photo is captioned, "My sleepy babies, all tuckered out from tour," and Louis knows it must have been taken by one of their crew. _Probably one of the sound guys they stole,_  Louis thinks bitterly before stopping himself. He feels a little sick, but mostly he just feels numb, and he doesn't want to be this person.

 

Instead he sneaks into the kitchen, throwing his arms around Harry's back and burying his face in his hair. It's half past ten and and they've only been home for a few hours, but Harry already smells like  _home_ , like their chintzy incense and too-expensive soaps from the master bath.

 

"Blueberries or chocolate chips?" Harry asks, and it sounds like  _I love you_.

 

"Both?" Louis says, waggling his eyebrows dramatically when Harry turns to face him, and Harry laughs, "That sounds gross!"

 

Louis has barely stuck out his bottom lip--he has a full pout prepared--when Harry says, "I'm sure it will be delicious!" amending his verdict quickly and now Louis laughs, hopping onto the counter so he can watch Harry cook, and appreciate him from eye-level.

 

Harry hums a tune Louis doesn't recognize while he rinses the blueberries, then traces lazy patterns with his fingers onto the skin of Louis' bare ankles while he waits for the griddle to heat up.

 

"What?" Louis asks, resting his hands on Harry's shoulders, questioning at the soft smile on Harry's face.

 

"Just glad to be home is all," Harry says, giving Louis a sappy look and Louis feels his heartbeat quicken.

 

"Me too," Louis says and thinks _this is the boy I know_. Thinks, _this is the boy I love_.

 

* * *

 

Three weeks later finds Louis sitting at a conference table across from his best friends, looking over the numbers from their last tour and preparing to sign contracts for the next one.

 

"What do you guys think?" Tom, their legal counsel, asks cheerfully. It's his job to explain the finer details of their contracts to them, and then witness and notarize the papers after they sign, but after three tours and countless signatures his job--where they are concerned--is more of a formality than anything.

 

"I'm so down," Niall says with a grin, pulling his stack of papers towards him and cracking his knuckles, "let's sign some shit!"

 

"So, details," Tom says with a laugh, tossing a pen to Niall but motioning to him to wait a moment, "basically: more dates, bigger venues, same opening act, slightly modified setlist, any questions?" 

 

Niall shakes his head agreeably, flipping the first page over, looking for the first of many x's. Louis looks down at his identical copy, skims over font 11 lines of legal details and thinks  _same opening act_. It's not like it's a surprise, or, it's not like it should be. The tour was an outstanding success, why wouldn't they do it again?

 

"Yeah, definitely, they were cool," Liam says, agreeing with his sentiments and Louis thinks  _shit, did I say that out loud?_

 

Zayn meets Louis' gaze across the table, and Louis' face must say  _help me_ because Zayn holds up his lighter, saying, "Just gonna have a quick smoke before jumping in," gesturing to the thick stack of papers in front of him.

 

"No problem," Tom says, nodding amiably at the two of them as they stand up. Harry's on the third page of his contract, brow furrowed in concentration as he reads every line closely, so Louis just presses a quick kiss to his hair as he passes by, as to not distract him. Harry shoots him an absentminded, but warm, smile in response before returning his attention to the page.

 

Outside, Zayn flicks his lighter and Louis considers whether punching the wall would break his hand or not. Probably not. He might get away with only a few busted knuckles.

 

"It's not my place to deny them," Louis says, "they're very talented," and Zayn says, "So are you."

 

"Apparently not talented _enough_ in some areas," Louis says with a roll of his eyes and when did he become this bitter person? When did he stop pretending, and accept that this is a thing that happened? When did he decide that he was going to internalize his hurt instead of lashing out? He sinks against the cement wall and puts his face in his hands, and says, "that's not fair, I shouldn't have said that."

 

"You don't have to apologize to me," Zayn says, holding up his hands in a placating manner, lit cigarette held between two fingers, and Louis thinks _does he have to apologize to **anyone**? _ Certainly not Harry, and it'll be a cold day in hell that Harry apologizes to  _him_ , in words at least.  _Is he supposed to apologize to Ashton? "Sorry my boyfriend put the moves on you when you were essentially in the midst of a job interview?"_ Like, _"Sorry we're so goddamn inappropriate?"_ Maybe, _"Sorry you hate yourself?"_

 

"I'm not apologizing to anyone," Louis says, because, mainly, he just feels guilty for things he didn't do and he can't make right what others' have made wrong. Zayn offers him his lit cigarette like, 'that's the spirit' and Louis takes it, thinking, _you treat me way better than my boyfriend does_.

 

"I'd probably be total shit at actually being your boyfriend though," Zayn says with a shrug that's just a little self-deprecating, and Louis really needs to stop saying everything out loud.

 

"I can promise you though," he continues, mock-seriously, "I would never fuck Ashton Irwin," and Louis bursts into laughter that borders on hysterical.

 

"Oh yeah?" he says with a softer laugh, "My knight in shining armor," and takes a drag from the cigarette. The edges of the filter taste faintly of Bert's Bees from Zayn's lips and Louis really doesn't mind.

 

"Well, yeah," Zayn says, like he's thinking about it, "Callum's like, way taller than me," and the way he says it like that's the _only_ reason makes Louis laugh again, a little more sedately this time.

 

"Have I ever told you that your cold pragmatism is the thing I love most about you?" Louis says and Zayn puts his hand on his heart and pretends to swoon. 

 

"That's why we get along so well," he says, crouching down to where he's eye-level with Louis, "it's 'cause we're both Slytherins," and Louis nods in agreeance, the two of them falling into companionable silence. Zayn lights up another port as Louis smokes the first one, both boys leaning their backs against the building, Louis' head resting on Zayn's shoulder.

 

After a few moments Zayn asks, "So...is that what you want?...Is this what you want?" and he's not talking about the tour. It's just everything. It's no longer about Louis and his feelings or what makes him happy. It's Harry _and_  the tour and the stress of the last four months and their career. It's Harry and Louis and Zayn and the next twenty years.

 

"None of this is what I want." Louis says truthfully. It's the only amount of truth he'll allow himself.

 

"Then are you going to sign?" Zayn asks, and he poses the question like Louis actually has the option of saying no, and Louis loves him for it.

 

"Yes," says Louis, "of course."

 

And if that isn't Louis' life in a nutshell.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! comments and kudos are always appreciated x :]
> 
>  
> 
> lil' a/n
> 
> firstly, I'm gonnabreakhisheart over on tumblr, so if you'd like to talk about anything/be friends, hit me up! :]
> 
> secondly, I'm already writing a sequel to this, I'll probably post it when this one gets about ten comments or so <3
> 
> thirdly, I struggle a bit with tagging/warning for things on my fics, so if there's something you feel should be in the tags or warnings please tell me! :D


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